Kismet
by SilkenBone922
Summary: Sequel to All Hallow's Eve.Future fic-"She whispered the words into his skin. He stirred in his sleep and she knew then why she had waited for this moment." Chuck/Blair.Can a secret affair stand the test of time?
1. A Ship in the Night

Kismet

Prologue

Perhaps this was how it was always meant to end. Maybe it was inevitable that amidst the carnage of their emotions, rage, love and hate, this would be the culmination of their lives. So that when all those pent up feelings were let loose, one of them would have their guts spilled out on the gravel and their blood seeping into the streets of New York.

And maybe when all is said and done, it is right and it is fitting that she should be the one to terminate their story. Her last laugh floating up to the smog covered sky. And with her dying thought she sees him, hazy in her vision. And she appreciates the irony that it is his bullet shot through her heart because he has only just realized it was his all along.

*****

Chapter 1- A Ship in the Night

"Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness."

Shakespeare's Sonnets

The Vanderbilt ring has been a bone of contention between them for years now. She says she wears as a token of gratitude to their best friend. She claimed to be touched that he would bequeath to her the very last vestige of grandeur that his family has left. After all, Anne Archibald always meant it to be hers.

He hates seeing it on her finger, the mocking glint of it as it catches the sunlight, a constant reminder of the love she never forgot.

The argument always ends the same. It's pointless to rant and rave because they aren't even together. High school is far behind them, College nearing its end. But Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass have yet to learn how to hold hands.

Those three torturous words already slipped from their lips ages ago. He was right. They were in senior year, she can't remember the exact date and she's not sure she cares to. It was at some point between his father's death and Christmas and all she remembered was the intense need to be with him. Hunger, wild insatiable hunger laced with love, finally bursting forth after months of pointless agony.

There was a fire roaring in the bedroom, its flames casting a new light around them. The red curtains were thrown back to reveal the snowy woods beyond. Chuck Bass made love to her and reveled in the feel of his body pressed into hers. She rakes her nimble fingers through his hair, intoxicated by the skill of his kisses and the smell of musk as she buries her nose in the crook of his neck.

And then, exhausted and utterly spent, she whispered the words into his skin. He stirred in his sleep and she knew then why she had waited for this moment.

This was the Chuck Bass she loved. Naked, stripped of his scarf, his bow ties, his smarmy attitude and his sleazy façade. Hair mussed, chest bare, muscles flexing as he hoisted himself up on his arms to look down at her, his weight crushing pleasantly on her own slender form. The adoration in his eyes, embarrassed because he was aware of the sheer naked love spelled out on his Roman-esque face.

She would never forget the hitch of his breath when he heard her words, the jaw that had been incessantly twitching for all their months apart was now slack, mouth hanging open for a split second before she reached up to devour it. He declared his love with the primal cry.

But there wasn't a soul in the world privy to these developments. They melted into stony New York and never made it to New Haven. The dawning realization was heartbreaking. They now knew that it was easy as breathing for them to be together. Just not in public, where even those closest to them marveled at the relationship.

And so they waited, for a comet to dash into earth, for the moon to turn blue for the world to finally change. For Charles Bartholomew Bass to finally pronounce to the world that he loved Blair Waldorf and always had.

But till the advent of that new day, this was their destiny. It pains her that they have been reduced to this. Stolen kisses in empty stairwells, hidden fucks on party nights and love notes with the eternal post script- burn after reading.

Because a couple that can't announce itself to the world is more than a little reluctant to define their relationship with each other. They are completely dysfunctional, with multiple anniversaries and wounds that never mended, till the part of them that loves each other is almost gone, a flickering candle on the cold lonely nights. Their once cherished romance, hidden from the prying eyes of the world for the purpose of preservation had dissolved into a string of secrets trysts, broken promises and empty farewells.

So, she wears Nate's ring because she doesn't have one from Chuck. So, they stop the screaming and yelling because they've been through it all before and even their fights are just falling into the motions of a practiced dance. He changes the steps as he steps out of the door- "One day Blair Waldorf, I _will_ take that ring of your finger," he vows, his voice low and dangerous, dark eyes glittering angrily. The door slams behind him, but she can't cry because the tears just douse the dying flames of the greatest love she'd never known.

*******

Nathaniel Archibald is coming home. It's been far too long since he's stepped on home ground, entirely too long in fact since his feet met with any sort of soil. The sea has become his mother and he cannot bring himself to revel in this fact. He's lost himself in the water and he needs to smell the smoke of New York to remember the boy he was and the man he almost became. His perfect countenance has not been marred by the stormy weather though it is a little worse for the wear.

He still stands tall; the prince he pretends to be, but when his crew turn their backs his shoulder wilt, and his mask drops. The carefully built façade crumbles away. He can't help but remember his old girlfriend, his tutor in building up defenses. The captain is gone and little boy blue emerges, sweeping his glance across the deck and the expansive cerulean waters beyond, scared at the scope of the oceans that he battles with and woos everyday.

The only anchor he has left as the solitary memory of the farewell; the last glimpse of America before he went off to sail the seven seas- see the world. His three best friends stood at the docks, the moonlight dapples their skin and glitters in their teary eyes.

He heaves a great sigh as the image of that congregation comes back to him. The three people in his life who were once his family, his life; slipping into all the different roles that populated his mind- siblings, lovers, parents and friends. They who had once been all had faded into oblivion with the rest of the coast, no more than a meaningless speck on the horizon.

The thought of them strengthens his resolve. Blair, who wears his ring and Serena who carries his heart are waiting for him back in New York. And so is Chuck, the brother he could never quite shake. They are in his blood, the city in his blood.

_ Nathaniel Fitzwilliam Archibald_. The winds whisper his name. New York City. Home.


	2. Gardens in the Rain

Chapter 2- Gardens in the Rain

"O Let not virtue seek

Renumeration for the thing it was;

For beauty, wit,

High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,

Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all

To envious and calumniating time"

Troilus and Cressida, Shakespeare

The dress from the Shepherd wedding hangs in the back of her closet with Nate's love note tucked into the bodice. It's the skeleton she never managed to get rid off and the words written out in his spidery script may as well be engraved on her heart. Contrary to popular belief it's the very first love letter she's ever been given.

Gushy Valentines from men she barely knows don't count and Nate Archibald's shaky words touch her to the very core. Tall, handsome Nate with her best friend in his arm; the Nate she'd always had a crush on and the Nate who was marked out for Blair. She supposes he had some crazy fantasy that she was his soul mate. Stoned Nate was always romantic.

They all were. Blair with the black and white movies and Nate, with his white steed and Chuck with a little known desire to be the reformed bad boy. Serena with her golden hair and her princess smile and tragically wistful childhood had more reason than any to indulge. And yet ended up more cynical than all of the Breakfast Club combined. Heart turned to stone, soul lost behind those dreamy blue eyes, her perfect face frozen in a grin.

Aaron captured that grin with his lens and Dan put her youthful laugh to paper with his words but for all their romantic tributes and all their close scrutiny neither could really see her. The short words of a drunk, guilty spoilt little boy carried more Serena van der Woodsen than an entire Humphrey novel.

She loved Dan. This was an irrefutable fact. But Dan merely loved the image of her, the idea and the story. The stable boy and the princess- It was one for the ages. She was his muse, malleable metal with no substance of its own, her heart taking on any shape he wanted it to but never really changing its core.

It had been a good feeling. Dan was awkward and hesitant, his dark eyes adoring. She was entranced by his honesty and the stories he wove with words, wanting desperately to be the girl he thought she was. It didn't work, couldn't work and never would.

She was too scared to let her guard down and if he was so reluctant to except her identity how could he possibly handle all the other little things bubbling under the surface. She remembers thinking they were forever, thinking their love could triumph all. She feels foolish now, naïve. It ought to be Dan territory. He makes her feel out of place in her own domain.

Her heart has been tugged, broken and lost and what's left of it is now under lock and key. She pulls the dress from the large oak wardrobe and the back of her mind, tugging it on with a vengeance that tears a little and pretending not to notice when Nate's letter flutters to the floor.

The grey herringbone coat is tightly buttoned, but the gold tulle skirt manages to peek out wherever it's unfastened. Her thudding heart beats a loud tattoo to all of New York, and her movements grow faster as she falls deeper into the poisonous maze of the city.

The long winding path she weaves leads her to the park and she's crept over to that secluded spot, the taste of Dan's kiss fresh on her lips as if all the months between then and now are gone. Her hair is down, wind whipped and messy.

There is a lake in the middle of the park and it's deeper than her heart and she feels the anticipation of relief. And then her phone rings and she knows even before she answers it. It's like the smoke itself is speaking to her.

Nate's home. And then came the rain.

A/N Things speed up in the next chapter. Please Read and Review!

Oh and this chapter is dedicated to Princess Cheese. Without her encouragement,I may never write again.


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